“Mommy, why did Maggie die in your tummy?”
The simple question takes my breath away.
“She didn’t die in mom’s tummy,” says Big G authoritatively.
“Yes she did!” insists Little G.
I see Car about to step in, and I take a deep breath. I need to handle this.
“Big G. Little G. This is something I’ll explain to you when you get older.”
They look at me curiously. I’ve never used this line with them before.
“But why, mommy?”
Because mommy had to kill Maggie to save her own life.
“It involves a lot of medical stuff, and it wouldn’t make a lot of sense to you right now. When you’re older you’ll be able to understand it, but right now it’s not something I’m going to talk about. Also,” I decide to address the real topic at hand, “it makes mommy feel sad to talk about it sometimes.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t get medical stuff,” says my ever-sensible Big G, and the conversation moves forward.
A reprieve, but now I realize that the day will come that we’ll have this talk.
Broadsided.
Ay! Grown-up stuff is hard for grown-ups sometimes. I think you handled it well.
love you with all my heart and all my snark, which is a lot. we’ll get through it.
Oh, Jenny. That’s a hard conversation. Big hugs to you.
*hugs*
My G comes to me and says; my siblings are lost!
She’s playing make believe, no clue what the word ‘siblings’ means, no clue that 4 of them are indeed lost.
Light and love to you.
I can’t imagine having that conversation. I’m sorry that you have to, and I hope that when you do, you can find the words. It’s strange how grief can surprise you like that, stealing your breath for a few moments.